Personal Narrative-Sacrifice?

She took a quick look around the last turn before the main street that led to the school. She noticed several boys and girls in the alleyways on both sides of the narrow street. It looked as if every class at her school, several young ladies and even her teacher waited for her in ambush. She ducked back before they could see her, hiked up her dress, and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her in the opposite direction of the angry mob. She didn’t stop until she had found the forest path that she needed and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard no one in pursuit. The forest surroundings felt different for some reason and it frightened her. It had a forbidding feel to it this dawn like she had never felt in the past.

The tickling sensation of heat bathing his face forced him to slowly open his eyes. The sun’s golden rays stunned him blurring his vision as he quickly turned away. As his eyes adjusted, he was surprised to find the absence of his father. His heart started to pound and all the confidence and security that he had built up melted in the space of a few seconds. He jumped up flinging his sleeping bag on to the ground and looked around taking note of his surroundings. To him, it felt as if the trees were suddenly sent out to attack him like stealthy assassins gaining on him as they moved side to side from the winds steady breeze. The faint noise of bugs and animals chattering sounded like the grunt of a predator before it hunts its prey. A colossal cloud

My throat had grown dry and each passing breath sent a blaze through me. The further I bolted into the forest, the more mystical and spellbinding it became. Huge roots painted a maze on the ground and the flora became thick and lush, forming an arch above my head. The forest reeked of age. The composting, organic fragrance rose up in

The night coats the air with darkness as we arrive. The only light is the warm glow of the headlights piercing through the thick blanket of the night, and the moon gazing down upon us. Click, our headlamps go on. We hop out the car, as a rush of whipping wind engulfs my face. The cold night air flows through the stitching of my clothes stealing the warmth from my body and sending chills down my spine. My friend and I search to find a campsite, like dogs searching for a buried bone. Walking, I can feel the crisp grit of sand shifting beneath my feet and hear the wind flowing like a river through the trees. Down the worn path, we hang our hammocks and start to gather firewood. Sounds of machetes striking branches fill the woods echoing

Her long brown hair tied back in tight bun and brown dirty dress and matching wool jumper that is two sizes too big. She heads down towards the running creek the bank starting to flatten. Dead trees creating hurdles and the thrones pricing her numb feet. The slug becomes deeper as she get closer to the water. Animals in the night scratching and yelling, light hitting her left shoulder… ‘RUN’. The only way out is the creek and he is getting closer the water reaching her lower back sending shivers up her spine. Wading through the water she sees it. The bag and the world has gone dark again silent and serine she scrambles up the other side of the bank pulling the bag with her. A big oak fallen about 15 Meters away she knows by the unsettling silence he’s not far away. Pulling the bag on her damp back she crawls to the hollow tree and lays down behind it. She holds her breath for what feels like fifteen minutes not moving a single tired muscle in her body. After about half an hour more of twilight and damp forest floor she realises he’s given up. Not for good but defiantly for

I just ran. Before I knew it, I was out of the trailer and walking back down the trail. That’s when the real fear set in, it’s strange how you feel so open and exposed walking on a trail. The trailer was sitting there it looked almost evil. I turned a corner and it disappeared out of sight. But the feeling of being followed remained. The trail was almost a trench carved in along a steep hill one side it sloped down and you could see a small pond. I began to visualize what could've happened. The different ways it could’ve ended. I wanted to go back and see if someone was really there, but I knew that would be a waste of time. I summed it up in my head as the wind pushing the door open. I still constantly turned back, looking over my shoulder to see if there was some truth to what I thought, if something was actually following me. It was a windy day out and as the wind the blew the trees would creak and crack. Branches fell off and slammed on the ground crashing down and taking other branches with it. The sound was amplified through the quiet and almost sleeping woods. It was strange, there were no animals, no squirrels or chipmunks. The woods were dead. I was still looking over my shoulder every now and again, still startled by what I had experienced. The walk took way longer than it should’ve. It felt like the seconds were minutes and no matter how fast I walked I couldn't keep up with the pace in my mind.

The condensed snow under my feet was crushed with every step. The snow was around four inches deep, my boots made a large enough indent, that I made a noticeable trail of holes with every step. The sun had vanished behind a mountain, the sky’s light had gone from an amiable orange, to a mellow blue. I could see outline of the moon between two clouds, and the air’s bite grew colder by the moment. I had taken a detour, past a thin slice of trees near to my neighborhood. Even for a forest, it was a cold, silent place. I used to come out to places like this as a kid, quiet places where I would sit and be alone for hours. I guess I forgot how often that was, but for the moment, I had something else to worry about.

Earlier this week, I got in touch with the game warden that I had previously had a ride along with and asked if I could go on another one. I was told to meet at the Brunswick office at 10:00 am. There I was to meet up with Corporal Kate Hargrave. I arrived at the Brunswick DNR office at approximately 9:40 because early is on time, and on time is late. When I pulled into the front parking lot, I noticed a man standing by a truck parked near the entrance that said “NOAA Law Enforcement” on the side. As this was an unusual sight, I decided to walk over and introduce myself. The man by the truck was Agent Ben Hughes. After talking to him for a few minutes, Corporal Hargrave arrived and informed me that Agent Hughes would be joining us for the

One day I discovered what I could not discern from that musty old tome you all have been playing with. I made this essential discovery during a case which involved the murder of a middle-aged soccer mom and her child. At this point in my career I had made a lot of friends within the law enforcement community. When they suspected a clown was involved in a case, they called me in for my expertise on the matter. How ironic that they rejected me for being clown obsessed, but now they were paying top dollar for my services.

The eerie wood, where we entered, was a bit scary to me. It was an umber-brown, aged forest covered by a damp, cheerless atmosphere. In fact, it was a foggy night. The air was cold and with every breath I drew a misty, chilly exhale followed. The source of light could be seen for miles of trail were several small led lights, which were lying along trailside. Those were helping people didn’t get off the trail and went too deep into the forest. Even though I could feel the unevenness of the old mining trail beneath me, it was smooth in contrast to the crunching of the odd dead leaf that I stepped on. As I looked around I noticed, although it was windless day, trees in the forest still seemed to be waving and enticing us into the darkness. The

There are two kinds of people in this world: there's the people that are able to avoid hitting traffic cones, and then there's me. I've found underwear in my lunchbox. Face wash in my locker. My phone in the fridge. Now don't get me wrong, I'm usually a pretty organized person, but on occasion I find my things in places they typically don't belong with no recollection of them getting there. 9 times out of 10, that's perfectly okay. But the tenth time, when I pulled up into my driveway with a traffic cone suctioned to the front of my car, that was definitely NOT okay. I honestly couldn't tell you exactly how it happened, all I know is that at some point between my high school parking lot and my home, I hit a traffic cone so hard that it got stuck to my car. Since the incident, I have become a much better driver, but my friends will all tell you that I will never be able to look at a traffic cone the same way again. It has become something of a joke- the amount of photos of traffic cones that have been sent to me by my friends and family is absurd, but I can't say that it's a bad thing. I took that situation as a lesson learned to be a more careful driver, and made light of it. I

The end of my junior year marked a point in my life that has changed the way I see sacrifice and determinism. I received a call from my mother telling me that she decided to no longer work for the career she has been doing for the past twenty years. She told me that the stress and responsibility that came with her job was too overwhelming and causing her to become depressed. This shift in my life helped show me that I should take on some of the responsibilities that she has been carrying for many years. My mom has molded her life to fit what I need, so I feel that I owe it back to her so she can figure out the new career that she would like to pursue.

For the next few weeks, I pride myself on being a good little captive. I do everything in my power to get him to trust me, hoping that he’ll let me out of here so that I can escape. So far, it seems like it’s working. He hasn’t laid a hand on me since I confronted him about who he was, and he even seems happier now. For some reason, he seems to be falling for it, which is good news for me.

I looked up at the black sky. I hadn't intended to be out this late. The sun had set, and the empty road ahead had no streetlights. I knew I was in for a dark journey home. I had decided that by traveling through the forest would be the quickest way home. Minutes passed, yet it seemed like hours and days. The farther I traveled into the forest, the darker it seemed to get. I was very had to even take a breath due to the stifling air. The only sound familiar to me was the quickening beat of my own heart, which felt as though it was about to come through my chest. I began to whistled to take my mind off the eerie noises I was hearing. In this kind of darkness I was in, it was hard for me to believe that I could be

I woke up before my alarm. A distant square of eerie half-twilight from the window held the familiar outline of the locust tree. In the dark, I fumbled to dress without waking my parents. I slipped outside.